Here are the hens.
The one in front. Not the one in back. That's a rooster.
And...the other six are roosters.
I think I will name them Clara and Connie although whether or not I'll be able to tell them apart is not at this point a question I can answer. It does appear that one of the Viv/Veras is indeed gone and I am sorry for that but I think I'll name the remaining one Vivian because I like that name.
Therefore, we know that Vera is dead.
Sorry to be the one to deliver bad news.
Dearie has not been laying in the shallot bag and I don't know where she's laying now nor do I know where most of the other hens are laying either. I think I might as well admit that for me, keeping chickens is a "for entertainment purposes only" proposition.
I went for a walk today. I did not find an endorphin. I did find some pretty wildflowers.
Don't ask me their names. I do not know them. But aren't they sweet?
I had some errands to run in town and so I pulled myself together, sort of, and drove there. One thing I didn't really need to do was to go to TJ Maxx to look at purses but that was the first thing I did.
Y'all. I no more need a new purse than I need more roosters. As some of you may know, I am a bit of a purse hoarder although I have not indulged my passion in quite some time. A few years ago I bought a purse that I loved so much that I carried it without ceasing for two years. Or more. Then part of the hardware broke and that was that.
I have tried since then to make one of the many purses I already own work for me.
This has not happened. Some are too big. Some are too damn small. Some are beautiful but the straps make carrying them awkward. Some are simply not beautiful. Some are an okay size but they have no pockets so that all of my purse stuff just swims about in the depths with no organization whatsoever. Trust me. I have tried them all. I have cleaned them up and treated them with leather conditioner. I have transferred all my stuff to them and given them trial runs.
None of them have pleased me.
So. I have been casually looking for a new one lately. One cannot just go buy a purse. It's like looking for the right partner. You can no more just go to a store and find the perfect bag any more than you can go to a bar and find the perfect mate.
On demand, at least.
I did sort of find Mr. Moon in a bar but I'd actually met him before and I believe I have told that story and it's a good one.
Back to the purses.
So a few weeks ago I was at TJ Maxx and I looked at the purses just for the hell of it. I like to fondle leather. What can I say? It's not an obsession or a fetish, it's just a small pleasure.
I found one. It was lovely. Made by the Frye company which has been making leather goods for a very, very long time. It was soft as a baby's butt. It was large but not enormous. It had two nice size pockets on the outside and a few perfectly placed pockets on the inside. No gold chains. No faux hippie fringe. No myriad of zippers. Just a simple, fairly unstructured bag.
"You will come home with me," I whispered when I saw it.
I examined it as best I could. I liked it. I checked the price. Not too bad because it was on clearance. Plus, it was senior citizens day so 10% off of the sale price.
But shit. So many purses. What right did I have to buy another?
I left it there.
But I've been thinking about it the way you think about something that you loved but left behind. You know what I mean. I tried to make three other purses I already had work. They just didn't. And so I went back today. It's been weeks so what were the odds it was still there?
And yet it was. MARKED DOWN EVEN MORE! Cheaper than what a Frye wristlet (yeah, that's a word) would cost retail.
"Here I am!" I cried to it. "I have come to save you!"
And I did.
I bought that bag and I transferred my stuff from my old (and I do mean old) purse to the new one in the parking lot. That's how you know you've fallen in love.
Okay. It's a little large but when I went to the nursery to buy seeds and they asked if I wanted a bag I said, "Oh, no thank you. They'll fit in my purse." Same when I went to pick up my bioidentical hormones. I'll be able to carry my fan, my Mentos gum AND a small notebook in it with no problem.
I could fit a newborn in there too but only a human newborn. Not a cow newborn or a horse newborn or a rhino newborn. Just a regular baby person newborn. And it would have to curl up.
So that was nice and I'm happy. I used to use retail therapy a lot but I don't anymore. I just don't get the pleasure from it that I once did. I am well aware that every new thing I buy is something that one day my children are going to have to deal with and that sort of ruins the joy of it all.
But I will admit that I like my new purse and although I know it won't really change my life, it will make it a little sweeter.
Friday night. You know what that means. The church on one side of me is wailing. Luckily, the guys who live next door on the other side of me do NOT have band practice. When those two things happen at the same time it can get weird. Also, martinis. Tonight I am having mine with a Wickles Wicked Okra.
I highly recommend. They are sweet and they are spicy which is an excellent combination.
Happy Friday, y'all.